


Who Knew

by talksmaths



Series: fic prompts [25]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Ryden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:24:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talksmaths/pseuds/talksmaths
Summary: prompt: "Who Knew" by P!nk





	Who Knew

Back and forth. Back and forth. 

Ryan dutifully watched people on the street below. It wasn't like he was doing anything worthwhile anyway. Early morning light had already enveloped the city, and he accepted defeat; he couldn't hide from it. Ryan taps his fingers against his mug, listening for the small ting of nail on ceramic. Something to keep him afloat.

Back and forth. No one was pacing, but they might as well have been. They all looked the same to him.

Downing the rest of his mug, he set it down on the windowsill, propping his head on his hand. He wanted to know every single one of their stories, yet thought he would probably be unflinching if he were to watch one of them get hit by a car. He frowns at his empty mug.

Back and forth.

Everyone had their own routine, lives, families, friends, lovers. Everyone had someone to belong to.

Well, everyone below him, anyway.

Ryan wishes he still had that.

He focuses on a bird pecking at something he can't identify for a few moments before flying away.

Maybe if there had been someone watching over him, he would have known all those promises were lies. Most of them were his anyway, but, hell, that didn't mean he didn't still have some he turned over in his mind every day, too. And that's what he was doing right now--watching over these people. Ryan snorted to no one but himself. Lousy fucking guardian angel he made.

He can't see faces, but every person that even resembles him makes Ryan want to jump. With this distance creating anonymity, though, he can at least pretend. Nothing wrong with that, right? Nothing wrong with pretending his boy was just down below, maybe would be coming up to his apartment soon, maybe would be kissing him and laughing and smiling--

Ryan's chest tightened and nausea crept up his throat. Something wrong, then, after all. 

Ryan struggles to keep his head up, to focus his eyes. He was a fucking horrible guardian angel, but he wished someone had been one for him. Someone to tell him that it would never work out. Ryan grabs the mug again, remembering it was empty but embracing its familiarity anyway. 

Below, he spots someone who resembles him. He wants to say, Don't follow your heart blindly. He wants to say, Not everyone deserves love. He wants to say, Don't tell him you love him and then be afraid when he says it back to you.

The stranger passes out of Ryan's blurred and shaky line of vision. He'd have given anything to take it all back. He knew damn fucking well that he threw away the only chance at real happiness he would ever get. He had no idea then, though. And neither did Brendon.

Ryan's shoulders feel too heavy. He lets them sink, pressing his body down closer to the people below him. He wants nothing more than to have something normal back. He knew he wasn't worthy of love. He'd known that long before Brendon. All of that had just been an experiment. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe if he followed the excitement and lust and love in him, it would lead him to something he couldn't imagine himself in. As if maybe some basic part of him had been waiting for love all along.

Ryan shifts in his chair, blocking the sun from his eyes with his non-mug hand. If that part of him had ever existed, it was a lie anyway.

Remnants of a phone conversation carry upward. Ryan can't make out words, just inflection and sound. Noise, tilted and rounded. Like  _his_ voice.

Ryan manages to get to his feet, stumbling through his drunkenness. This angel needed to sleep, he thought. He was done with the world below, the past, the present. He wanted to jump to the future, a place where maybe he would wake up new and heart refreshed. Maybe memories erased, if he was lucky. Would he do it all again, if it meant losing it all?

Ryan falls into bed, turning away from the cold and empty other half. Anything for another chance at him, he decides.


End file.
